A/N: Hello everyone. ^-^ This is my first Spuffy Fanfic, and I really hope you don't hate it. This is also the first fic I've written in a while, and I'm a bit- alright, a lot - rusty. But I tried my best… ._. If you'd be so kind, please review, and tell me what you think. It'd be greatly appreciated.

I use quite a bit of dialogue from Season Six episode 13, Dead Things around the middle of the fic. I also tried to figure out how to the scene with Buffy, where the time was going all wonky in Spike's perspective, but I think I failed… epically. ._.

This is canon through Dead Things, and then goes slightly AU. This was originally a one-shot, but thought it should be cut into two, and the second chapter will be out in about an hour, maybe less. Oh, and Warning: This fic doesn't end with a happy, Spuffy ending. Just so you know.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and even if you don't, please review and tell me why. Thanks. :-)

It's never enough for you baby
Don't want to play your game anymore
No matter what you say
I'm all out of love for you, baby
And now that I've tried everything
I'll numb the pain,
'Til I am made of stone
~Evanescence, Made of Stone~

He sat there, just watching as she threw on her clothes, his heart breaking once again, but masking it with his cocky, confident mask. He casually lounged on the bed, a lazy grin on his face when she turned back to face him, disgust clear on her face.

"This won't happen again. This is the last time, do you understand?" She told him coldly, her eyes flashing with self-hatred. He looked at her through half lidded eyes, smirking lightly, knowing she'd be back, no matter what she said. She can't resist him, the pain he could give her, and they both knew it.

"Right, Slayer. Sing me a new tune, will ya? This one's gettin' a bit tired."

"I mean it this time Spike. Never again." She spit at him, slipping on her boots, zipping them up.

Sighing, Spike got up, the sheet around his waist slipping off, his naked body on display. He smirked when he saw her eyes drift down to his manhood. Never fails. He thought, proudly preening under her gaze. He stalked over to her slowly, watching her watch him. When he reached her, he pulled her close to him, his mouth going straight to her ear, his cool breath making her shiver lightly.

"I think we both know that's a lie, now don't we, Slayer?" He purred softly in her ear. "You know you want me Slayer. You crave my flesh. Stop resistin', an' give into me, luv." His words turned almost pleading at the end, yet she still pushed him away, regardless of the truth in his words.

"Never, Spike. I could never want a disgusting, vile, evil, soulless… thing. You are nothing to me. You're just convenient. That's it." With that said, she stormed out of his crypt, leaving him to stare after her, and heave an unneeded sigh. He pulled out a cigarette, and light it, sitting down heavily on the bed, his mind fuming on what she said, masking the pain with hatred. At who, he wasn't quite sure.
"Yeah, right. Bloody convenient. That's s'all ol' Spikey's good for, yea? Scratchin' an itch. Nothing else a demon could be good for, accordin' to Miss Prim an' proper." He grumbled, throwing the now spent fag away. He laid back down on the bed, not bothering to cover up, putting his hands behind his head, eyes closed, replaying those precious few moments when she laid in his arms, where he could pretend it was him she wanted. All of him, his demon and all.

But that's impossible, now ain't it?

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

As she walked away, she could feel her disgust and hatred slip away into the nothing she tried to rid herself of. Why else would she willingly go to someone as disgusting as Spike night after night? The fact of the matter was he made her feel something, while no one else could. Not even her best friends could get a response from her. Sure, she'd pretend for them, but as each day passed, it just got harder and harder to feel. The only one was Spike, and what a depressing thought was that?

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms around herself, as she entered her home.

"Dawn, you here?" She called out, silently wishing she wasn't there, so she could just go to bed, and sleep off this horrible day. But, of course she was there, she always was. Don't get her wrong, she loved her sister with all her heart, but sometimes the responsibility of caring for her became too much, and she wanted nothing more than to give the responsibility to someone else, so she could just rest every once and a while. But that just wouldn't happen.

"Yeah, I'm here. What do you want?" Dawn said, as she entered the room, toothbrush in hand, a bored look on her face.

"Uh… I just wanted to make sure you have all your homework done. So, uh, do you?" She asked awkwardly, fidgeting slightly.

Sighing, Dawn replied, "Yes, Buffy. Is that all?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Good. I'm going to bed now. 'Night." With that, she stormed up the stairs in the usual teen manner. Letting out a breath she'd been holding, Buffy followed her sister's lead, and walked up the stairs, looking forward to a nice, hot shower, while she tried her hardest not to think of the vampire she had just left.

But, as the warm water washed down her back, she couldn't help but replay their time together, how his cool hands felt as they skimmed down her back, the goose bumps rising despite the scalding water.

She couldn't understand how she could feel this way about a soulless creature, but she couldn't deny the attraction she felt for him, despite how disgusting she told herself he was. She'd never feel anything more for him, however.

But that's impossible, isn't it?

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Days passed, and Spike was currently relaxing in his arm chair, his favorite soap Passions on. He had been right about Buffy not being able to stay away, as she had been there earlier that day, in a relatively good mood, and she'd even let him handcuff her. He grinned lightly, as he drew in another puff of his fag. Maybe she did care about him, despite her insistence that she didn't. His grin widened, and he closed his eyes in contentment.

After a few minutes, he gets up, and pours himself a cup of blood, crushing the Burba Weed he had stolen into it, and raises it to drink, when he senses someone at his door. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. He thought, anticipation filling him, grinning lightly. He walked over to the door, and waited for her to open it. He waits for a few seconds, before becoming impatient, and opening the door, the small grin still on his face, which falters when he sees she's no longer there. Her scent was in the air, so she must have been there, recently, and had left. Frustration mixed with disappointment, as he buttoned up his previously unbuttoned shirt, and went out to find her, to figure out why she'd just left.

He was prepared to sniff her out, when he heard the scream, and knew automatically where she'd be. Just follow the screams, he thought drily, as he set out in the direction of the 'poor victim'.

When he got there, he saw her fighting nothing, confusion plain on her face. He walks up to her, and she turns to him.

"Spike. What's happening?" She asked, her eyes darting around, as if she's expecting an attack.

"You tell me."

"I don't know. Things are... jumbled."

"So you thought you'd just slip away, then? Vampire, remember?" He moved closer to her "I could feel you."

Before she could respond, these large grey demons show up, and start attacking Buffy. He could also hear someone crying, but he paid little attention to it, as he rushed to help the Slayer. Slipping into vamp mode, he quickly snapped one of the demon's necks, and turned around in time to see one of the demons about to hit his Slayer.

"Buffy!" He shouts to her in warning, but is too late as the hit lands its mark, making her already disoriented expression more so. Walking over to her, he tried to steady her, when she suddenly hit him, making him fall back, his lip bloody.

"Ow! Bloody hell, what did you do that for?" He asked, as another demon comes closer. No time to hear her explanation, he got back up, and continues fighting the remaining two demons, while the Slayer sort of just stood there, throwing a punch every so often, concerning Spike with her behavior, but he couldn't do anything about it as the demons kept coming at him.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as his confused Slayer hits some girl, the same one who'd been crying earlier, and knocks her down the embankment. Her face instantly fills with horror, not even noticing the demon that she was fighting swoop in to hit her. Moving quickly, he throws the demon back, and notices Buffy rushing down the embankment and he starts after her, when the demon tackles him to the ground, and scrambles on top of him, hissing slightly.

"Do you mind?!" He asked in frustration, before punching it clear through its chest. He rushes down the embankment after Buffy. Once he's down there, he noticed the girl from before lying face down on the ground, clearly dead. His Buffy is knelling next to her, horror on her face as she looked down at the girl. He hurried closer to her.

"Buffy-" He started, but stopped as she looked up at him, shock and guilt on her face, freezing his dead insides.

"She's dead. I-I killed her." She whispered, looking dazed at this realization.

After taking a second to let this sink in, Spike quickly scanned the area, trying to judge if anyone saw them. Seeing no one, he said "We have to go."

"What happened?" She asked, still dazed.

"There's nothing you can do. We have to go before someone sees you."

"What did I do..."

"We have to go! Now!" He yelled at her. Upon seeing that she was still too shocked to move, he forcefully moves her away from the body, until they're at the edge of the cemetery.

"All right. Listen to me. Buffy. Buffy!" He almost growled, seeing he still doesn't have her attention. He was feeling incredibly anxious, not wanting her to be so close to the scene of the crime. He grabs her hand to get her attention on to him.

Staring through him, she said, "She's dead."

"It was an accident."

"I killed her."

"I'm going to get you home."

"No-"

Getting annoyed with her guilt, he said firmly, "I'm going to get you home. And you're going to crawl into your warm comfy bed and stay there." Having said that, he softened his voice, and said, "We'll sort this out. Trust me."

She nods slightly, not sure what else to do, and lets him take her away, towards her house. Once there, he quietly unlocked the door using the spare key they keep hidden, and lead her silently to her room, where he tucked her into her bed, her eyes still unseeing of him. He sighed lightly, as he kissed her forehead gently.

"It's alright luv." He said in a soothing voice. "It'll be our little secret."

After a second, he kissed her forehead again, before slipping out, silent as a shadow.

As soon as he's outside, he tried to think up a plan. First things first, get rid of the body. Hurrying back to the clearing in the woods, he saw the body was still there, and hurried down to it, before someone else could see it.

Quickly as he can, he lifts the body, and dumped it into the lake, not thinking for a second to take a sip from it, since as it's already dead, it wouldn't hurt him. But his only thought was that he had was to cover this whole thing up, so no one would find out, and take the love of his unlife away from him, so soon after he'd just got her back.

Once the body sunk to the bottom of the lake, Spike let out an unneeded breath, and smiled lightly, glad that that mess was over with. Turning around, he sauntered away, looking casual, like he hadn't just dumped a body into the river. When he reached his crypt, he collapsed in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face, feeling weary. Even though the physical evidence of the crime was gone, he knew that the mental trauma that the death inflicted on Buffy wouldn't be as easy to be rid of. If only she wasn't so good, this would be easy to sweep under the rug. But knowing her like he did, she would try and turn herself in. And so, he made himself get up, and walk to the police station, to see if he could catch her before she did the inevitable.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

He stood in the alley, waiting for her to show. Lucky for him, he only had to wait a few minutes before he saw her walk in a daze towards the station.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked, before stepping out of the alley. She didn't even turn around.

"The right thing. For once." She said in a near whisper, continuing her walk. Fearful, and a bit angry, he grabbed her, and threw her into the alley he had come from.

"Sorry, luv. Can't let you do that."
"I have to tell them what happened."
"Nothing happened."
"I killed that girl."
"Demons in the woods? Time going wonky? They won't believe you."
"I'll show them. I'll take them there and show them what I did."
"Show them what?"

He saw her expression change from remorse to horrified anger, and he knew he wouldn't get out of here uninjured- which was good, hopefully she'd use up all her anger on him, and wouldn't turn herself in.
"What did you do?" She asked, almost seething.

"I took care of it."
"What did you do?!"
"What I had to! I went back and took care of it. It doesn't matter now. No one will ever find her."

Just then, they heard a couple of cops say, "Where'd they find her?!"

"The river. She washed up half mile from the cemetery."

Upon hearing this, he grimaces. "Oh, balls." He thought quickly, grasping at straws to keep her from turning herself in "There still isn't anything to connect this to you."

"It doesn't matter."
"It wasn't your fault."
"I killed her."
"It was an accident. It just happened."
"Nothing just happens." She started to walk again, but Spike blocked her path once again.

"You're not doing this." He insisted, feeling desperate.

"Let me go, Spike. Please. Just let me go..."
"I can't. I love you." He told her with emotion.
"No, you don't."
"You think I haven't tried not to?"

He suddenly finds himself flying backwards, crashing into the garbage cans behind him.
"Try harder" After that, he tries his hardest to goad her into a fight, thinking if he can just get her to let all her self-hatred onto him, she wouldn't want to turn herself in. He was grasping at straws, he knew, but if it saved her, he didn't care. It was all going according to plan, until she said something that cut him deeply.

"You don't have a soul! There's nothing good or clean in you. That's why you can't understand! You're dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never... be your girl!" As she talked, she pounded his face mercilessly. After a few moments, she came back to herself, and realized what she was doing.

"You always hurt... the one you love, pet." He sputtered out, barely conscious. He watched as she stumbled back from him, shaken. He saw her eyes harden with determination, before she turned, and headed out of the alley. He tried to sit up, but found he couldn't, having been beaten too hard.

"Buffy! Don't do this! Please! Buffy!" He called after her, pleading for her to come back, but she didn't even turn. He laid back in defeat, tears swimming his one good eye, and irritating the other. She was going to turn herself in. He tried as hard as he could, even getting beaten to an inch of his unlife, and he still had failed. Again. He squeezed his good eye shut, the tears finally falling.

He had been laying there for a few minutes, before he sensed her. He immediately looked up, wondering if she had finally seen reason, and decided that turning herself in was a bad idea. He watched as she stormed determinedly past his alley, not even looking over at where she had left him. He felt confused. Was she not even going to see if he was okay? He waited another minute, wondering if she was going to come back. When the minute passed, ten more followed, before he realized she wasn't coming.

Okay, that hurts… He thought. So, she beat him mercilessly, and doesn't even bother to make sure he's alright? The internal hurt spread, until it consumed his entire body. He gasps lightly, the pain burning him, mixing with the pain of his injuries. I'm sure she's just busy with something. She'll be back. She has to, she wouldn't just leave me here… she has to care a little about me, right?

But even as he desperately thought that, he knew it wasn't true, her last words to him echoing in his head.

"You don't have a soul! There's nothing good or clean in you. That's why you can't understand! You're dead inside! You can't feel anything real! I could never... be your girl!"

Closing his eye again, he felt more tears pour down. No. Of course she didn't care. He was just a dead, convenient thing to her. Nothing more. But still, he clung desperately to the hope she'd be back before day break, to make sure he didn't dust.

And so he waited. And waited. Finally, minutes 'til dawn, he gave up, his heart aching in the knowledge she didn't care for him even slightly. During the entire time, everything she'd ever said to him passed through his head, both good and bad, but mostly bad. He almost wanted to just stay there, waiting for the sun, but he wasn't a quitter, so he got up, hissing from the pain, and limped weakly back to his crypt. He felt glad he didn't encounter a single person on his way there.

Once inside his crypt, he sank into his arm chair, staring blankly at the wall. She didn't care. She didn't care. For him. After everything he'd done… He took care of her sister, when she was dead, no hope of coming back. He did that for her, not to impress her, but because it was what she'd want. And before that, he went through torture for her, to keep her sister safe. Hell, he'd helped back when he'd hated her! He had done so much for her, so many things he hadn't had to do, all for her. And she couldn't even bother to make sure he was alright after what she did to him, couldn't make sure he wasn't about to dust, leaving him to drag his weary body home.

Why did he even bother? It was clear to him she'd never care for him. After all, all he was was 'a disgusting, vile, evil, soulless… thing.' Why keep making a fool of himself when she obviously didn't care? And so, he did the only thing he could think of to do. The one thing he swore he'd never do. He gave up on her.